This morning I looked up at my ceiling and saw the little sticker marks that my erstwhile glow-in-the-dark stars had left behind.
The stars are long gone, but the mark stays.
I had stuck the stars onto my ceiling about 10 years ago, when Miguel was a little boy. He shared my bed then, and at night we'd point a flashlight at the ceiling so that the stars would glow above us. I remember watching as the fluorescent glow faded, hoping that it could last just a little bit longer.
Those sticker marks have always been on my ceiling for the past 10 years or more. They've never really caught my attention. But now I'm glad that they did.
Seeing them now during this quiet moment as the morning sun filters into my room brings back happy memories of those innocent years. I'm happy to say that those were moments well spent, exploring the wonders of childhood with my son. No regrets.
Now he is a teenager, and has long since moved out of my room. I am hardly his priority. But now I must ask myself: years from now, will I look back on these days as time well spent?
There is a redeeming "yes" there, and I must say that it's because I've made it a point to frequently take him out to lunch or dinner, just the two of us. It's very important to me that I invest the time to create these memories. That's the only way I will be able to say to myself that I have no regrets in my life.
A lot of changes will have to happen now, since this is the way that I want to live my life.
What makes a day worth living? After considering all that I've been through for the past several months, for me, it all boils down to this:
People need at least one meaningful conversation a day.
That's my theory. You can spend the day in frenzied activity, or you may do absolutely nothing. But by day's end, you will look for the one touch point, one connection, that reminded you that, yes, you are human and you are alive. Today.
Even if you have a very busy and productive day, full of accomplishment, you will still seek that face-to-face validation from another person; that, "Hey mom, guess what happened today!" moment.
In most circumstances it is a connection with someone with whom prior connections have been built and nurtured; someone you trust; someone you love. Those lively and/or thought-provoking lunchtime conversations, spontaneous lunches out, late afternoon coffee breaks, and quick merienda trips down the street. Those web-surfing breaks in two floors above, rides home with a trusted friend, late dinners with your mom, and weekend fellowships with my bosom friends.
And even rarer: those dinners with my supermoms, nights out with my BFFs, and the steady, reliable rhythm of our family get-togethers.
But that is not all. I am also challenged to develop new connections. The family member you've been taking for granted. The relative that you hardly talk to. The household staff whose shoes you've never even tried. The child who asks you,"Mommy, can I, can I can?" for the nth time and it finally gets to your head that it wouldn't hurt to say yes.
And what of the hermits of this world? The men and women who live alone, whether or not they are surrounded by others? Honestly, I cannot tell.
What would it be like to live without human contact for long periods of time? Not to be touched. Not to be heard. Not to hear another person's unfettered thoughts. Whether it's an epiphany about the direction of your life, or a clamor about that leaky faucet.
I do not know, nor do I wish to know. Right now I am just so very thankful for the people God has given me in this life. I hope that I can take care of these relationships, these people. Hopefully I can expand this circle as well, and recognize who should be in it.
That's all. Social networking is fine, and blogging is fine. But give me a hand to hold, a voice to listen to, and ears to hear what's on my mind.
